Peeta
That's it. I have to escape.
The next day, or maybe it's the day after that, I begin my plan. I have a lot of time to think to myself in this dungeon, in my little private prison, totally secluded. I figure out a way to track time. There's no source of sunlight down here, so I have estimate roughly.
I use the edge of my handcuffs to draw a line in the stone wall after an hour has passed. Eventually I have a system figured out. One of the guards seems to notice the scratches on the wall, but says nothing, probably assuming my sanity was taking a hit.
On this particular day, I'm waiting for the guards. They come into my dungeon to bring me food at IIII, four lines in the wall, and check on me at random intervals. Today I'm waiting for them at IIII.
"Hungry, boy with the bread?" One smirks as he throws a shallow bowl of broth at me, using the same name he's used for me since the first day I've arrived. I haven't been called that in years, not since before the Rebellion, and he seems to be the only one who finds it humourous. Even the other guard doesn't smile anymore. Instead, he throws a roll at me, hard as a brick.
That's my chance.
I hold the bowl in my shackled hands and smash it off the bench I sit on.
"Hey!" the repetitive guards shout, running towards me with one of those taser-things that are much more powerful than tasers. When he gets close enough, I fling shards of broken porcelain in his face, causing him to rear back and fall on his hindside.
The other guy supresses a smile and advances towards me, taking out his taser too. I grab the rock hard bread and clench my teeth.
"You don't wanna do that," he warns, walking slowly.
"And why not?"
"If you throw that bread... well, you won't be the boy with the bread anymore." It's meant to be a threat. He's saying he's going to kill me. But he can't kill me. They're keeping me ransom. If they wanted me dead, I'd be dead. The new president would have visited me more and asked more questions, forced more answers out of me if it was information they wanted. But no. I'm ransom.
It's Katniss they want.
Thinking of her sends a wave of fury through me; fury at them for trying to hurt her, and fury at Gale Hawthorne for making her fall in love.
Jumping, I smash the brick-hard bread across the guards face. A spew of blood and a roar come from him as he falls, and I run to the door.
I'm free.
YOU ARE READING
The Hunger Games: Book Four - How it Might Have Been ... Gale.
FanfictionThe end of the Hunger Games - abrupt, unsatisfying, mysterious? Gale Hawthorne was forgotten after the Rebellion ceased - now he is back to tell his tale. Living alone in District 2, Gale still feels as though something is missing in his life - her...
